Bipolar Journey

This is weird I know. I measure my health and wellness on my ability to cut grass. Not the smoking kind, the up-to-your-knees yard sort. It was mania that brought me to cutting grass. I wanted to prove I could do the work of a man. I think cutting grass is the ultimate male chore. To master it meant I was tough. During my mania I need to be tough. When I am depressed I am so weak. Not just in mind, but body also. Most depressives feel as though they have the flu. The weak feeling makes it almost impossible to get out of bed, let alone accomplish any other chore.

Mania also brings impulse purchasing. This episode produced a new lawnmower. I walked into my local Feed and Seed store declared, “I need a lawnmower that will crank every time and cut grass all day if I need it to.” Within 15 minutes I was loading it in my Jeep. I mowed my lawn as soon as I got home. When I was finished I can’t describe the high I felt. It was kinda like spending time with the other grass. . .

Of course, depression always follows my mania. I am always unable to complete chores. If I get dressed and out, that is a good day. This depression was no different. I would stare out my window watching my neighbors cut their grass and wishing. I remember telling myself, “As soon as I am better I am cutting the grass.” Then I began to believe getting better wasn’t a possibility. I apologized to the lawn mower.

As with all episodes, I slowly get better. Even with better feelings, I feel as though complete health will not define my wellness. Yet, I always find myself better without warning. In my lawnmower episode, I wake up one day and get dressed and pull the crank-every-time lawnmower out the garage.

All my senses come alive. My feelings of weakness trickle away. “I’m back,” I tell myself.